Lost

She heard the bell; the chatter subsided, as well as her daydreams. She got up from her chair and started toward the door. She and was softly shoved around by the other people flowing past her to go to lunch. She wandered down the hall, making her way to the cafeteria. Teens littered the hallways, skipping classes, socializing, flirting; their sensual body language revealing what their lips could not.

The lonely girl strolled, clutching her backpack, noticeably oblivious, yet unbelievably aware. She refused to pay attention, but that didn’t mean she didn’t see.

She made it to the cafeteria. Not stopping to glance around, she walked to the far corner table and sat. She pulled out her headphones as well as her pad of paper. She began to draw, the music coursing through her veins, carrying the beat to the rest of her body. She pulled the sound from the air around her, sticking it to the paper as she drew.

She didn’t look up as a shadow fell over her and the drawing, but she knew who it was. He sat down next to her, watching the fluid movement of the pencil marking the paper. She ignored him, as she did everyday. They both sat in silence, neither one of them dared to say a word.

Anyone looking on would assume it was a close bond that allowed them to sit together, soundless as mutes, everyday. But it was not understanding that led to their silence, but fear, of different sorts. Her fear was more of paranoia; his was related to low self-esteem. So there they sat, unmoving except for her pencil’s perpetual motion.

He stared at her drawing, that hand, and utensil that was creating the masterpiece. It seemed to have a life of its own, as if the hand controlling the pencil didn’t belong to her. Then the bell rang to signal the end of their session. He grabbed his stuff then saw out of the corner of his eye that she was already gone, out the door, not to be seen by him again… until tomorrow.

"Same time, same place." He thought as he dumped his food and moved on to whatever class was next.